The Mercenary
by BPmonks92
Summary: Earth, 2034 AD. With the release of Rockbell Industry's new product, The Automailer, the company's stocks have skyrocketed and their full body weaponized armor is quickly becoming the new standard in warfare. Meanwhile, the most powerful international black market arms dealer wants a piece of the action and hires a Golden Eyed Mercenary to do his bidding. This is an FMA AU. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Beijing, China. 2034.

"Thank you for meeting me, Edward." The man was cloaked in shadows and cigar smoke as he set down his tumbler of whisky delicately on the rich wooden desk before him. "Please, have a seat. I have a new assignment for you."

'Jeez this is straight out of a crime boss movie' Thought Edward. It made him feel on edge. He had done some work for Mr. Kimblee in the past, all cash transactions delivered in person in fat envelopes of unmarked bills. He expected the new assignment to be more of the same.

One of Kimblee's henchmen showed Edward into the dark office, guiding him to a gold-studded leather chair. He cautiously seated himself across from one of the most powerful black market arms dealers in the world. He was the reason ISIS was the threat that it was. Edward respected his business savvy, but disagreed with pretty much all of his methods.

Kimblee's henchman offered the box of cubans to Edward, who chose the fattest one. The henchman clipped it and handed it back to Edward, sticking it between his teeth. The henchman flipped open a gold lighter, igniting it for Edward to use. He leaned forward, stuck the tip into the flame and relaxed back into supple leather.

Kimblee slid a manilla folder across the desk towards Edward. Inside was several documents, the first being an eight and a half by eleven photo of a beautiful blonde haired woman. She wore an opened white lab coat over a sleek black knee length dress with high boots. The picture had been taken surreptitiously to it's subject; the woman was exiting a tall office building of Chicago's downtown district. It was clear that she worked there.

"How much do you know about Rockbell Industries?" Asked Kimblee.

"Only that they sell bio-mechanics and that their stock has skyrocketed in the past few months."

"Ever since the release of their latest product, the Automailer. The woman you see in the picture is Dr. Winry Rockbell, CEO of Rockbell Industries and the designer and engineer of the Automailer."

"What exactly is the Automailer?"

"As you'll see in the spec folder, it is essentially a full body bio-mechanical suit that amplifies the power of the person or soldier who wears it. Fully equipped with all the ammunition and fire power any person on the battlefield could wish for, they are extremely efficient at eliminating their target and keeping the wearer safe. Ever seen the movie 'Iron Man'?"

"Yeah, sure." Ed responded while flipping through his folder to study the blueprints.

"Winry Rockbell has made Tony Stark's Iron Man suit available for purchase."

"Jeez, how much do these things go for?"

"Retail for one unit is just under half a million dollars. They are rapidly becoming the new standard in warfare."

Ed let out a low whistle, further examining the contents of the spec folder.

"I have a meeting with Dr. Rockbell in three days time where I will propose a business deal to her. I want Kimblee Factories and Co. to become her Eastern manufacturer and distributor. The meeting will take place in her office building in Chicago. I want you to be there beside me as my representative."

"How exactly would I be representing you?"

"I will propose that she expand production to China, where you will be heading the operation. I want you to work closely with her to gain her trust and her knowledge of everything involving the Automailer. Once we open the first factory here and have the rights to the Automailer, I want you to assassinate her."

"You're aware that I don't usually do long cons. I'd feel better if you'd contact me later with a mark once your factory is opened."

"That won't work. I intend to absorb Rockbell Industries after her death. For that to happen, I need the rights. And who would sign over production rights of their star product to a perfect stranger? Now, I realize that we have never had a dealing like this one in particular, but I must confess: you happen to be the most handsome mercenary I know."

"You want me to seduce her?"

Kimblee's face contorted into a slick smirk.

Edward looked again at the picture. She was indeed beautiful. It wouldn't be hard to feign romantic interest.

"And, since this project is expected to last for a while, I will wire ten thousand US dollars into an account of your choosing every week."

Edward puffed his cigar and gazed across the desk to Kimblee. He could certainly use the money. His brother's condition seemed to be worsening every day. And if he got up to walk away from this, that henchman that so politely offered him a cigar was likely to kill him where he stood. Kimblee wouldn't risk anyone who knew of his plans to live.

Edward took one last puff of his cigar, and stared into the cold, dead eyes of the man across the desk. "Alright, Kimblee. You've got a deal."

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><p>A.N. This is my first fic I've ever uploaded, but am very excited about it! I am a HUGE EdxWin fan, and have been really loving the FMA AU's posted on this site, so I decided to try my hand :) I plan to update this story weekly, so get ready for the long haul! Thank you!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

A.N. Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope you continue to like the direction this story goes. Also, please forgive any pseudo-science in this chapter :) Happy Halloween and enjoy!

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><p>Chicago, Illinois, USA. 2034.<p>

Dr. Rockbell lowered her magnifying glasses over her eyes as she picked up the soldering gun. The micro chip was hot off the presses and now it was time to implant it into her latest bio-mechanical invention: the Crocodile Arm, which essentially gave the wearer a chainsaw for an arm. It was a custom order for which the client had requested Winry specifically to engineer. Those were her favorite.

She technically didn't have to work another day in her life; the public release of the Automailer meant she could permanently retire to a beautiful foreign country and live out her remaining years in peace and comfort. But she wasn't built that way. And just after celebrating her thirty-first birthday, she knew she would quickly go stir crazy if all she had on her daily agenda was to suntan.

Suddenly, the lab doors burst open and a very frazzled young woman carrying briefcases and coffee mugs ran through. "Winry! Your meeting! It's in three minutes!"

"Damn, okay. Thank you, Scheska." Winry smiled at her personal assistant. She removed her head gear and placed it on the workbench next to her Crocodile project, but kept her lab coat on over her business casual outfit. It was always a bit drafty in the building, but really she just liked the way it made her look. "Okay, let's go!"

In the elevator, she took down her pony tail, letting her blonde locks flow freely over her shoulders. She needed a haircut; it was almost down to her waist. "Do I look okay?" She asked her assistant, who gave her a vigorous nod and a reassuring smile.

Exactly at 10:01am, Winry and Scheska strolled into the meeting room on the top floor of the sky rise building. Rockbell Industries owned the entire sixty-four floor structure, and this meeting room was at the very top, providing everyone in it with a beautiful view of the Chicago skyline.

She glided confidently across the room to Zolf J. Kimblee, the Chinese business man who proposed this meeting, with her arm outstretched. "Mr. Kimblee, so great to finally meet face to face." They shook hands and exchanged pleasant smiles. "This is my assistant, Scheska, who will be taking notes for me during this meeting, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Dr. Rockbell."

"Winry, please." They made themselves comfortable around a large conference table.

"Of course, Winry. And this is my associate in charge of manufacture and production in China for Kimblee Factories, Edward Jones."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones." She smiled evenly at him, careful not to give away the fact that her heart just picked up it's pace. He nodded back his greeting. Immediately she took note of his dirty blonde hair and light colored eyes. Gold, they appeared to be. 'How unusual.' She thought. She was expecting another Chinaman, but certainly wasn't complaining.

"Shall we get started, then?" She addressed the room and removed some files from her briefcase. Scheska pulled out a laptop and began typing.

"Absolutely." Kimblee began. "Firstly, I want to congratulate you on your mechanical genius, if I may. The Automailer is an exquisite piece of machinery."

"You're too kind, really. We've been building separate parts for customers for years, so it was really only a matter of time before we put it all together. People just can't seem to get enough of the cyborg fad, I guess." She quipped.

Kimblee let out a lighthearted laugh that, to anyone else might give the impression of catching him off guard. But Edward knew better. He only laughed like that when he felt cornered, and that was a dangerous place for him to be. "Still." Continued Kimblee. "And its had great success so soon, too. It's true that Great Britain has just put in an order?"

Winry nodded and Kimblee leaned forward, leering. "Have you received any others?" He asked.

"Not at the moment, but my advisors suspect Ireland or Russia to come forward soon."

"On top of your current order in production for the US government?" Kimblee was trying to make her admit her desperation, but Winry seemed unfazed.

"That's correct. At this point, we are researching areas of expansion, similar to the offer you are presenting today. With just the one factory we have here in Illinois, our current rate of production is not enough to meet our demand. But I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the basic principals of Economics." Her eyes brightened and her lips curled up, as though she was the only one in the room to get the punchline of a joke. Edward smirked with her.

"And may I ask about my competition?" Kimblee continued.

"Well, we haven't narrowed anything down yet. My board members and I are still shopping around for the best option. I'm sure you understand." This time, she flashed her teeth in a confident grin.

Edward was impressed. In just a few short minutes, this woman managed to play up her company's demand while simultaneously giving off an air of competence, even though she had to be swamped and was probably close to needy. It was clear she was very intelligent.

Ed peered over to Kimblee, whose tight smile let Edward know that he did not enjoy playing the mouse in this game of wits. Edward knew that expression from experience and was suddenly and unexpectedly overcome with an urge to protect this woman from his employer. 'Shit.' He thought, looking back to Winry's effortless smile. 'I might not live past this.'

About an hour later, all the members of the meeting filed out towards the elevators. Winry and Kimblee had gone over the numbers extensively, with Scheska taking apt notes.

Edward mostly just watched and took a few notes of his own. Since his cover was to be a businessman working for Kimblee, he had researched the manufacturing company extensively so as not to be caught off guard. He was a quick learner, and was able to follow along with ease.

As they waited for the elevator together, they made easy small talk. "Well Mr. Kimblee, I feel very confident that we will be able to get back to you regarding this offer shortly. In the meantime, I need to converse with my board members and advisors, but you can expect an answer by next week."

"That sounds excellent. Unfortunately, I am departing for my homeland tomorrow, but Edward will stay here until you are ready to deliver your answer."

"Oh, okay. Do you have a hotel yet? I can recommend a great one not too far from here."

Edward took a beat to realize that Dr. Rockbell had asked him a direct question and that she was waiting for a response. He quickly cleared his throat.

"Uh, a recommendation would be great, thank you."

"If you don't mind my asking, you're American?" She continued.

"Yes. I was actually born in Aurora, which is about an hour and a half from here."

"Get out. Me too!" She grinned at him. "What are the odds?" She looked to Kimblee briefly, who wore a satisfied smirk.

"About fifty thousand to one." Ed interrupted. Winry's eyes snapped back to his. She was stunned, momentarily mesmerized by his clear golds. For the first time during their meeting, she had no ready response. Luckily, her assistant came to her rescue.

"You would be correct about that, sir." Scheska added. "More accurately, judging by the latest US census which was released one year and six months ago, your odds are one hundred forty two, nine hundred ninety thousand to seven billion, one hundred twenty five million—"

DING! The elevator doors slid open. Winry giggled and Scheska blushed. Winry caught Ed's gaze, who smirked back at her. 'That cocky asshole.' She thought.

"Well, you two have a great rest of your day. And Mr. Kimblee, I wish you safe travels." She added as they entered into the elevator.

Kimblee gazed steadily back, adding, "I look forward to doing business with you, Winry."

The elevator doors slid shut. Winry looked to her assistant and burst out laughing. "What a couple of jerks!"

"You would be correct about that!"

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Kimblee turned to Edward. "I want you to have a chat with her board members and advisors. Preferably before she does. Do what you need to in order to make them suggest that she take my offer." Edward nodded.

"And nice work with the back story. You've already made headway." Kimblee added, simpering. The rest of the ride down was silent.


	3. Chapter 3

A.N. It gets a bit darker before we see the light at the end of the tunnel. I hope you enjoy the journey!

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><p>Chicago, Illinois, USA. 2034.<p>

Edward used the plastic key card to open his hotel room door. When the green light blinked, he turned the handle and walked through the threshold, dropping his carry-on in the hall closet. He made his way to the desk by the floor-to-ceiling windows which overlooked downtown. Picking up the phone, he dialed the only number he knew by heart. It rang a few times, then a woman picked up.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Mei?"

"Ed?"

"Yeah. How's he doing?"

"Still the same. Hanging in there. He has a new physical therapist coming by on Monday." There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Ed could hear his sister-in-law take in a deep breath. "It's become difficult for him to pronounce certain words."

Edward ran his fingers through his bangs. The pain of watching his little brother fall ill to the same incurable and fatal hereditary disease that killed their mother was indescribable. In the past year, Al had begun to show symptoms of Huntington's Disease, which meant that it could be anywhere from ten to thirty years until his body and mind degenerated enough to eventually kill him.

"What about his medication? Can't they— I don't know, update it or something for the new symptom?"

"It's still the same. The speech difficulty is a small problem compared to the other symptoms he'll probably develop. Until the problems get substantially bigger, his doctor wants to keep him on the same dosage. He's still able to teach, though, so he's happy."

"Well listen, I'm sending some money—"

"You know you don't have to do that."

"Yes I do. I'll make the transfer in a few days. I gotta go, Mei. Take care. And tell Al to stay strong."

He hung up the receiver before she could protest further. He had work to do. Out of his briefcase, he pulled out the spec folder that Kimblee had given him. On the list of employees for Rockbell Industries, he searched for the names he needed. Research into each provided the following information:

-King Bradley, age 69. Married with one son. Heir to the Bradley family fortune. Board Member and Financial Backer to Rockbell Industries.

-Roy Mustang, age 50. Single with no children. Ex-military. Retired after achieving the rank of General in the US Army. Board Member and Tactical Adviser to Rockbell Industries.

-Riza Hawkeye, age 44. Single with no children. Weapons specialist. Board Member and Artillery Adviser to Rockbell Industries.

-Yoki Youswell, age 58. Married with no children. Accountant and Financial Adviser to Rockbell Industries.

Edward figured that Bradley would be attracted to the appealingly low prices of Kimblee's offer and could easily approach him outright. Youswell, being an old Jewish accountant, would probably put in a good word to Dr. Rockbell with a little financial motivation. It was stereotyping, he knew, but he'd be damned if it didn't work.

The tricky ones would be Mustang and Hawkeye. Mustang being ex-military would probably take the honorable route. Whereas he had no idea what to expect from a weapons expert, and felt vaguely threatened by that. He decided first to enter the ring against the person he was sure to win the fight: King Bradley.

He tracked down Bradley to a country club about thirty minutes outside of downtown, its eighteen hole golf course overlooking scenic Lake Michigan. The easy, sunny sight of Bradley wiping his brow after a fantastic game of golf foreshadowed their agreeable conversation. Edward approached him amicably and soon had Bradley agreeing to talk over lunch. And before they could finish their entrees, Bradley was convinced. 'One down, three to go.' Thought Edward. As the plates were collected, Edward gently tried to pry more information.

"Well sir, I am very excited at the prospect of working with Rockbell Industries, and I know my employer will be as well."

"Great, great." Bradley grabbed the dinner napkin he had stuffed in his collar and lightly threw it on the table as he rose from his seat. "Come by with the papers next week so we can all sign."

Edward rose with him. "One last thing, if you don't mind. Since you're definitely an advocate of this proposal, where might be the best place to approach your other board members, Mustang and Hawkeye?"

"I'll tell ya right now that Mustang won't take lightly to any lobbying. And definitely don't go to Hawkeye while she's at the range. She'll be more open to hearing you out though; her main concern will probably be quality assurance of the product."

"I see. Thank you for your time, then. Have a wonderful rest of you day."

"You too, son. And good luck!"

They clasped hands in a brief shake, then Edward watched Bradley exit the restaurant. Next stop, the accountant.

He made a quick stop at the bank to withdraw five grand in clean, crisp hundred dollar bills. He tucked them neatly into a manila envelope and folded it into his briefcase.

Yoki Youswell's office was on the fifth floor of an old, brick front, low-rise building in a bad neighborhood. It was one of those where the units used to be apartments, so there was no grand entrance into the suite, just a door marked 5A over a peephole. When you rang the bell, a receptionist buzzed you in.

Upon entering, the stench of musty books and yellowed files nearly knocked him back. If he searched under all the junk, he could probably find an old Gateway still running Windows '98.

The overweight, rundown, mid thirties receptionist looked up over her dollar store cat eye glasses, pissed that her attention was being diverted from her celebrity gossip magazine. "Can I help you?" She deadpanned.

Edward took a deep breath and turned on his most devilish grin and watched as she straightened her spine and elongated her neck at an attempt to make herself more attractive. 'This is too easy.' He thought.

"Good evening, Miss. I'm afraid I don't have an appointment, but am in great need to see Mr. Youswell. Is he in?"

She ogled him shamelessly from head to toe, taking in his lean and fit physique and strong jaw. "Just a minute." She replied as she got up from her chair and exited through a door that lead into the depths of the suite.

Not thirty seconds later, she reappeared. "He's leaving soon, but he'll see you. Go straight through there." She pointed to a hallway on the opposite side of the room and settled back into her nest of a reception desk.

Edward tiptoed through the dusty chaos of the suite to the back, where he found a scuffed door ajar for him. He entered into Youswell's office, which was twice as cluttered as the reception desk. The little light there was in the room was coming from a window that provided the decadent view of the neighboring brownstone's wall.

"Come in and sit down, but let's make this brief. My wife has already started on dinner." Yoki gestured to the guest chair and Ed made himself comfortable.

"Of course, sir. I've come to see you today on behalf of the company I represent, called Kimblee Factories and Co. You see, we are currently in talks with Rockbell Industries to become their Eastern manufacturers and distributors."

"Yeah, so?" Clearly Yoki did not require the finesse that lunch with Bradley took. Edward leaned forward. "I'm here to ask for your loyalty, Mr. Youswell. I will pay you five thousand dollars in cash right here and now, if you would advise Dr. Winry Rockbell to sign a deal with us."

"Five grand just for my recommendation? I've done worse for less. Sure, you've got a deal."

Yoki held his grubby hand out for the envelope and Ed began to pass it over. But before Yoki's greedy fingers could grab it, he stopped. "Before this becomes yours, Mr. Youswell, there is something else I need from you. Tell me everything you know about Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye."


	4. Chapter 4

A.N. Apologies for the delayed update! This one's the longest chapter so far and I'm very excited about it! Things really pick up from here, so please stay tuned :) See you next week and enjoy!

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><p>Chicago, Illinois, USA. 2034.<p>

Edward woke on Saturday morning comfortable in the plush bedding of the Double Regent Hotel, but not well rested. His nightmares were back. This is exactly why he didn't do long cons.

He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to smooth out the sandpaper feeling under his lids. He needed to get up and meet with Kimblee before he left. And he needed to do it sooner rather than later as he was not going to have this room for another night and still needed to pack. Summoning all his energy, he threw back the feathered down duvet and shuffled his way into a steaming hot shower.

Forty-five minutes later, Ed closed the door to his hotel room, luggage in hand. The monotonous journey down to the lobby was followed by an uneventful check-out at reception. As he thanked the woman behind the desk, he was suddenly struck by a sinking, blood-curdling feeling from the pit of his stomach down to his toes. He turned around shakily, guard up, only to see Kimblee casually strolling out of the elevators, easily wheeling his luggage behind him, the picture of a successful international businessman. 'If only they knew' He thought.

Ed caught the gaze of his employer and nodded his acknowledgement as he headed over, quickly falling into stride next to him.

"Good morning, Edward. I hope you are feeling as rejuvenated as I am this morning." Kimblee said as they made their way to the lobby's exit. "Any updates since yesterday?"

"I was able to talk with two of her advisors, both of which are fully on board."

"Fantastic! And I didn't think this morning could get any better." The wind whipped their hair and overcoats around as they stepped through the revolving doors. At the curb, a bellboy hailed a cab. "I have faith that you won't let me down, Edward. Things are looking good so far. Let's keep it that way."

"Of course." Edward had a sickening feeling that he might not be able to back up his words, but didn't have time to think too much about it when a taxi pulled up to their position. Kimblee gave his luggage to the driver and climbed into the backseat.

"Have a safe flight back." Added Edward.

"Thank you. Keep me updated."

And like that, he was gone.

Edward made his way back into the lobby, taking a seat on one of the ugly-chic blue and green lounge chairs. He dug around in his pockets for the business card he had deposited there yesterday until his fingers closed around its smooth surface. He quickly dialed the number and after counting five rings, heard the voice of Winry tell her caller to leave it at the beep.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, hi, Winry. This is Ed Elr—, er, Jones calling for that hotel recommendation you mentioned yesterday. Please give me a call back at your earliest convenience. Thank you."

He quickly hung up before he could stumble further.

BANG BANG BANG! Ed's last three bullets made contact with the printed silhouette of a man. He pressed the button on the wall that made the paper target fly towards the shooter, so that he could examine his results. Three holes peppered the center of the skull, all within a few inches of each other. Ed tore down the poster, balling it up and tossing it into the can at his feet.

"No need to remind yourself of the fact that you could easily take a man's life."

Ed looked up to the serene face of a middle aged woman with reddish-brown eyes. "Yeah."

"Where'd you learn to shoot?" She asked.

"My dad taught me."

Riza looked at the young man as he cleaned up his station. He seemed lost, going through the motions, so that he complied with the list of rules on the wall. One's past will do that to a man.

"Listen, I know a great place for coffee that's around the corner from here. And you look like you need to take your mind off some things. Wanna join me?"

The man's lost eyes found hers, and he nodded.

They sat down on tall leather backed stools at the bar that ran along the length of the window, shedding their jackets and letting the warm rich tastes and smells of their coffees reinvigorate their souls.

"My name's Riza, by the way." She said, turning to her companion.

"Edward." They shook hands.

"So Edward. What brings you out on a miserable day like today?"

'Looking for you' He thought. "I'm visiting Chicago on business, and decided I should probably do something with my Saturday while I'm here."

"I see." Riza looked out, a remorseful expression on her face. "When one's time is precious, circumstances become extenuated."

"Yeah, something like that." Ed watched pigeons pick at crumbs on the street and took another sip.

"So, what kind of business do you do?" Ed's attention snapped back to her.

"I'm in manufacturing. I represent a Chinese factory company."

"Ah." She smiled knowingly. "So do you consider yourself part of the problem or the solution?"

Ed smirked. "I don't stop long enough to ask."

Riza laughed, lightheaded and easy.

'What am I doing?' He mentally chastised himself. 'I can't afford any slip ups!'

Ed observed her clear, calm eyes. She had shown him kindness today and didn't deserve to be caught in the middle of this. But he knew what he needed to do. When she left momentarily to visit the restroom, Ed stealthily retrieved her house keys from her purse. He wouldn't get much sleep this night, either.

Roy Mustang unlocked the second door to his apartment building and stepped into the small lobby, locking the door back behind him. He sorted through his keys for the littlest one, which he used to open his compact metal mailbox.

Among the usual bills and junk mail, he picked up a folded over nine by twelve manilla envelope. It was heavier than your average letter, and he could feel something rigid inside. It was unmarked except for his name. No address, no return address and no stamps. Which meant that in order for this letter to be in his mailbox, the sender had to go through both doors of his building, and open the lock on his mailbox to place it inside. The only people in the world who had that exact combination of keys was his landlord and Riza Hawkeye.

He smiled to himself as he made his way up the dusty staircase to his second floor unit, carefully running his thumb under the flap to retrieve it's contents. His hand reached inside to grab a thin tablet. It had a typed note taped to its front, which Mustang unfolded first. It read:

Roy Mustang,

Next week, Dr. Winry Rockbell will call a meeting with Rockbell Industries' board members. In it, she will discuss a recent business proposal. It is imperative that you advise her to accept the proposal.

On the tablet, you will find any and all motivation you might need to advise Dr. Rockbell favorably.

Your cooperation is appreciated.

Mustang turned his attention to the tablet. Upon unlocking it, a video began to play. It appeared to be grainy, black and white security footage of what looked like a living room. Five seconds later, the feed switched to show a high angle of a bedroom.

'Wait a minute. I know those sheets…' Thought Mustang.

Five seconds later, the feed switched again to the kitchen, where Riza was cooking herself dinner.

"NO!" Mustang whipped out his cell phone and called her, watching in horror as the Riza in the video picked up her cell and answered.

"Hi, Roy."

"Riza. Get out of your apartment."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Come to my place. I'll tell you when you get here. You need to stay with me for a few days."

"Okay, I'll be right over."

Mustang breathed a sigh of relief as he watched her in live time quickly pack a small suitcase and exit.

'Crisis averted' He thought, gathering himself and his belongings. He retrieved his keys from his pocket and let himself into the apartment. He dropped them in the bowl by the door and hung his coat in the closet, walking past the small foyer into a moderately sized kitchen.

As he flipped on the lights, a sense of eerie stillness came over him. "Shit he's got my keys!"

Roy inserted a plastic key card into the hotel room door, waited for the green light, then turned the handle and held it open for Riza to walk through ahead of him.

"Check it." He called. Riza nodded and did a systematic check of the room to ensure they were alone.

"Clear." She said a minute later. "What's this all about, Roy?"

Roy held up a finger, indicating her to wait a minute while he checked the room after her, this time looking for bugs or cameras.

"Okay, we're alone." He answered. "Today, I found this in my mailbox." He handed over the envelope and tablet so that she could inspect it. When she saw the video feed of her apartment, she gasped.

"Roy, he's got my keys. And yours. And my business's. And my key card to the office. I keep them all on my keychain." She told him, guilt and fear making her eyes water.

Roy stepped closer, removing the threatening tablet from her hands and embracing her. "It's okay. We're safe here."

Not a second later, a knock resounded through the tense room.

"I'll be right back." Roy made his way to the door, opening it to reveal a bellboy.

"I believe you dropped these, sir." He said, and handed over a keychain with three sets of keys and a plastic key card that read Rockbell Industries.

Roy snatched the keys out of his hand and grabbed the boy's collar. "Where did you find these?!"

"In the lobby, I swear!" His eyes were wide and unseeing.

"I don't believe you." Roy pressed. "Where exactly?"

"They were on the concierge desk! I saw you both check in and recognized the woman's face from the ID card on the ring! Please sir! You have to believe me!"

Roy dropped his hold on the boy and huffed. "Alright. Get out." The boy practically ran away screaming.

Roy walked back over to Riza, handing back her keys. "He knows we're here."

For the third time that day, Edward exited the Double Regent Hotel, and pressed a twenty dollar bill into the hand of the bellboy who held the door open for him. He made the short walk to his rental car, unlocked it and sat in the driver's seat. He ignited the engine and put it in gear. Before he could drive off, the shrill ring of his cell interrupted him.

"Hello?"

"Edward?" It was a woman's voice.

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"Oh sorry! It's Winry. I hope it's not too late to be calling, I just got your voicemail. I turn off my phone when I'm in the lab, and sometimes the hours just pass me by. But did you find a place to stay?"

Edward didn't know what to say. He hadn't looked, but knew he could easily find some hole-in-the-wall motel to spend the night. He decided to go with a version of the truth.

"Actually I just walked out of the Double Regent. They were all booked."

"Oh no! That's the one I was going to recommend!"

"That's okay. I actually stayed there last night. Had to check out this morning when my boss left."

"It's a great hotel, right?"

"Yeah, but maybe their lobby furniture needs to be updated."

Winry laughed. "That's hilarious! Is it still that ugly blue and green pattern?"

Ed smiled. "Yeah." There was a pause on the other end and Ed could hear her clinking and clanking around with what he assumed to be some piece of machinery.

"Well, you could always spend the night at the office—"

"No, I wouldn't want to do that." Ed answered too quickly.

"Don't be silly! We have a lounge with pull out couches. I've spent the night way too many times here. And the best part is that tomorrow is Sunday so you can sleep in."

"Well,—"

"Just come by real quick. I'm about done finishing things up here. And if you're at the Double Regent, then you're close. See you in five, okay?"

Ed let a out a breath through his nostrils. "Alright."


End file.
